Letting Go Of The Past
by TempestJo
Summary: Brennan has a tough day, but Booth to the rescue


Brennan opened her eyes and stared dully through swollen lids at the light flickering through her curtains. Her throat felt raw and her heart ached. She didn't want to move.

And she didn't have to. She always took care to take a personal day when she felt her defences dropping. She inhaled ragedly as she flung herself onto her back. She needed to do this. She needed to rebuild the icy walls that kept the rest of the world at bay. That kept her from getting hurt worse.

She slid from the bed to the floor with a bump, and her head throbbed. With her, crying aways had the same after effects as drinking too much.

She crawled over to her closet and pushed open the door. The small, worn box sat in front of her, looking as sorry as she felt. With trembling hands she pulled it towards her and opened it, as new tears clouded her eyes.

Hastly she wiped them away, before reminding herself that this was the one day it was okay to cry. Just this one day, her mothers birthday, to remember, and then forget.

Her hand trembled as she reached inside and began to carefully remove the objects preserved within.

A shoe. She turned it over and traced the names of all her foster homes carefully with her finger. She'd been so scared, so alone. She placed it on the ground in front of her and reached back into the box.

A tiny bear, ragged and worn. It was the last thing her brother gave her before he too abandoned her. She touched its smooth pink nose. How many nights had she crubbed it against her cheek secretly as she cried herself to sleep? She placed it on the floor next to the shoe gently.

Her mother's ring.

She paused, dreading the onslaught of tears the next object would demand of her.

Booth's funeral notice. She sobbed as she held it. She'd wanted to die. Of all the times that she'd ever felt alone, that had been the worst. She loved him. She'd always loved him, from the very moment she'd met him.

But she would never tell him. She couldn't. It would hurt too much when he left. At least this way, when he left, he wouldn't know how much it would hurt her. She didn't think she'd be able to bear having him know how much he was hurting her. Much better for him to think she didn't believe in love. She cried harder, curling her body against the floor as she clutched the small square bearing Booths photo to her chest remembering.

Eventually she cried herself to sleep.

Booth gently pushed open the apartment door and looked inside. It was quiet. Brennan's purse and keys sat on the coffee table, proof that she was home.

He knew this day was hard for her. She always took it off from work, and always looked like crap the next day. She'd claim she was hungover. He'd go along with it to spare her any more pain, but he knew she'd been crying.

He tiptoed over to her bedroom and peeked in the door. She was curled up on the floor sleeping, clutching something to her chest. Her breathing was uneven, with the strange hitch that Parker had always got when he was a baby and had cried till he fell asleep on Booth's shoulder.

He felt his heart drop to his knees. He should leave her alone, give her the privacy she wanted, but he loved her, and he didn't want her to suffer alone any more.

He looked down at the thick file in his hands. His health file. It had every visit he'd ever made to the hospital in it, every xray they'd taken, photos of every broken rib his father had ever given him. He'd never let anyone see it before. But he knew it was the only way to keep her from building the wall again the second she woke up and saw him.

Carefully he eased into the room and sat down in front of her, leaning against the wall. He carefully moved aside her momentos and spread open the file in front of her.

She trembled in her sleep, and he froze as her fingers relaxed their grip on the card she was holding, allowing him to see it.

His funeral notice. She'd cried herself to sleep holding his funeral notice.

He squeezed his eyes shut. He should have phoned her. He'd wanted to. But he'd trusted that she would be told, her name was on the list. He was such a fool. He'd had no idea how much it had effected her.

He hung his head. He'd make it up to her. He rested against the wall and waited.

Brennan opened her eyes, and knew instantly something was different. She raised her head and looked directly into Booth's eyes.

"Shh. Just read." He whispered, nudging something towards her.

She blinked and focused. It was a file, a medical file. She sat up and was about to push it away when she saw the name. It was his file.

Wordlessly she looked at him.

"Please." He said, his brown eyes begging.

She turned the pages, scanning the reports and xrays, till she reached the last one.

She looked at him again. He hadn't moved.

"Why?" She asked, softly.

"I wanted you to know. I want you to know everything about me. I love you. I want to share your pain, and this is the only way I could think of to get past your barriers. I love you so much Bones."

She frowned. "You can't. You shouldn't love me."

He stared at her solemnly. "But I do. And I'm not going to leave you, no matter how hard to push me away, or where you run to."

She swallowed and looked away. Her glance landed on the funeral notice, and she closed her eyes. It wasn't really an option anymore was it? He'd seen her curled around his photo, he knew.

She took a deep breath. "Okay."

He smiled and slowly pulled her into his arms. He'd take things slow, not expect too much from her, let her feel her way. Prove that he loved her, everything about her.

As she snuggled into Booth's embrace, she whispered to herself, "I love you Booth."

He smoothed his hand over her hair and pretended he hadn't heard her, but a relieved smile spread accross he face. It wasn't going to be easy, but they'd make it, he'd make sure of it.


End file.
